


The Queen is Dead: Mission Logs

by tptplayer5701



Series: "Mind Games"-verse [17]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dragon Kagami Tsurugi | Ryuko, Fox Alya Césaire | Rena Rouge, Friendship, Horse Max Kanté | Pegasus, Humor, Miraculous Holder Ivan Bruel, Miraculous Holder Juleka Couffaine, Miraculous Holder Mylène Haprèle, Miraculous Holder Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Monkey Lê Chiến Kim | Roi Singe, Mouse Miraculous, New Miraculous, New Miraculous Holders, Ox Miraculous, Post-Hawk Moth Defeat, Rooster Miraculous, Secret Identity, Snake Luka Couffaine | Viperion, Tiger Miraculous, Turtle Nino Lahiffe | Carapace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24791269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tptplayer5701/pseuds/tptplayer5701
Summary: A "Mind Games"-verse "Spring Break" AnthologyQueen Bee is missing! Lynchpin abducted her! All of the Heroes of Paris are scrambling to find her without tipping off Lynchpin that they are on to him. These stories parallel "The Queen is Dead" and show the rest of the Heroes' efforts to rescue their Queen Bee.First: Nathaniel, Alix, and Kim track down their "enemy"Second: Alix makes some animal "friends" and comes some some important realizationsThird: Rose does a little late-night gardeningFourth: Mylène and Ivan stumble onto a suspicious warehouseFifth: Juleka goes on patrol with Viperion and Ryoku
Relationships: Alix Kubdel & Lê Chiến Kim, Alix Kubdel & Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Alya Césaire & Rose Lavillant, Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle, Juleka Couffaine & Kagami Tsurugi, Juleka Couffaine & Luka Couffaine, Luka Couffaine & Kagami Tsurugi, Nathaniel Kurtzberg & Lê Chiến Kim
Series: "Mind Games"-verse [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666807
Comments: 18
Kudos: 27





	1. Vigilance

**Author's Note:**

> This series of one-shots came out of a desire to answer the question, “What are the other heroes up to while Chloe is missing during ‘The Queen is Dead’?” At this point in the “Mind Games”-verse, there are no less than 18 members of the Heroes of Paris. Of them, 2 are out of town and 6 factor heavily in the events of “The Queen is Dead,” but that still leaves 10 unaccounted for. So this series focuses on the other heroes. Consequently, there is a lot of connection between these one-shots and everything that has come before in the “Mind Games”-verse “Spring Break” event which began with “The Press Conference.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geber, King Monkey, and Sk8r Girl try to track down whoever abducted Queen Bee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel doesn’t know anyone’s identities (yet). This begins a little after “The Queen is Dead”
> 
> Check out [Chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24752512/chapters/59941012). There are major connections to 
> 
> Check out [“Monkey Games.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495115/chapters/59127097) Non-Canon Heroes: Geber – Nathaniel (Rooster Miraculous) Sk8r Girl – Alix (no miraculous)

Nathaniel crouched over his sketchpad, working to bring to life the image in his head. After his fight against the Animal Man the day before alongside King Monkey, he had been struck by the image of the two heroes fending off a pair of panthers. So this morning he had gone for a walk, trying to find the right background for the painting he wanted to sketch out – he couldn’t incorporate that scene into his comic book, but he could still memorialize it – perhaps the Heroes could display it in the Headquarters he had yet to see. His feet had taken him past the zoo, which was still in some disarray as the zookeepers worked to reorganize the animals and secure their cages properly. He had walked through the Trocadéro, but rejected that as well. Finally, he found himself sitting on a bench in front of Notre Dame Cathedral, staring up at the imposing façade. _Perhaps a stained glass aesthetic_ , he thought, eyeballing the stained glass window for a model.

He was just putting the finishing touches on one of the panthers when his phone chimed. Setting aside the charcoal and sketchpad, he pulled out his phone and checked the caller ID. He frowned. _Why is Carapace calling right now? We’re not supposed to train today…_ A surreptitious glance around the courtyard satisfied him that he was alone. He hit the answer button.

“What’s up, Turtle Dude?” He smirked.

Carapace was silent. Nathaniel heard a heavy sigh on the other end.

“Carapace?”

“We’ve got a problem, Geber,” Carapace finally told him, his voice heavy. “Queen Bee is missing.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean she’s _missing_?”

“Exactly that: she was abducted during the press conference, but we didn’t realize it at the time.”

“ _Yesterday???_ But… she’s been texting me all day!”

“We know. Whoever took her has been pretending to be her to throw us off. We’re looking into all the texts they sent. You shouldn’t receive any more, but any messages you _do_ receive from her – from _any_ source – report directly to Pegasus.” Nathaniel could hear the anger and irritation in Carapace’s voice.

“Um, yes, sir.” Nathaniel was quiet for a minute, thinking. “Um… does this mean you want me out looking for her now?”

“No,” Carapace told him. “For now it’s business as usual. Keep everything normal. As far as we know, they don’t know we know they have her, and we want to keep it that way as long as possible. If we find a way for you to help with the search, we’ll let you know.”

“You got it, boss.”

Carapace chuckled humorlessly. “I know you got a question, dude. What is it?”

Nathaniel frowned. “It’s just… Orikko says a good Rooster is supposed to keep an eye out for dangers to the group. Why didn’t I see this coming?”

“You know, I’ve been asking myself similar questions since we found out,” replied Carapace. “My thing is Protection, so why couldn’t I protect her? We’re good, but sometimes the other side catches a break. Everyone can share in the blame for what happened to Chloe. But right now all that matters is for us to work together and find her. And for right now, we have to act like everything is normal. Can I count on you?”

“I’ll try.”

Nathaniel hung up the phone and tried to return to his drawing, but every attempt left him frustrated and unsatisfied. After a dozen abortive attempts to continue his drawing, each worse than the last, he finally shoved his sketchpad into his bag, packed up his pencils, and stood up to return home. He was waiting at the traffic light to cross the street and head home when his phone rang again. Again, it was one of the Heroes.

“I’m not exactly in the mood, especially after that stunt yesterday,” he said on answering the call. “What’s on your mind, Monkey Boy?”

King Monkey laughed. “Yeah… sorry about that,” he replied. “I had a bear to find. So… I take it Carapace already talked to you.”

“Yeah. He did. So what’s up?”

“I have an idea how we might track down Queen Bee, but I need your help to pull it off. You busy tonight?”

The light changed and Nathaniel stepped off the curb. “Not really. Does Carapace know about this?”

“I ran it past him before I called you,” answered King Monkey. “If you’re in, he’ll drop off your miraculous. So… _are_ you in?”

Nathaniel shrugged. “Why not? So what’s the plan?”

“Meet at the Eiffel Tower at eight.”

“You got it.” Nathaniel was almost across the street when he heard the screech of tires from his right. He put on a burst of speed and dove onto the sidewalk moments before a car stopped halfway into the crosswalk. “Watch it, jackass!” he shouted, glaring at the driver angrily. He turned and stormed off without waiting for an acknowledgement.

* * *

At quarter to eight that night, Nathaniel was doodling in the margins of his sketchbook when Pegasus opened a small portal on his nightstand and placed a small black box with a red pattern etched into the lid next to his glasses case. Nathaniel glanced up when the portal opened, but didn’t see anything through it apart from Pegasus standing in front of what looked like a trio of giant computer monitors.

“Good luck keeping King Monkey in line tonight,” Pegasus told him, raising an eyebrow. “Let me know when you’re finished and I can retrieve your miraculous.”

“You got it,” Nathaniel agreed. “But when do I get to _keep_ my miraculous?”

Pegasus shrugged. “Not my call. You’ll have to ask Ladybug about that.” With that, the portal winked out of existence.

Nathaniel opened the familiar box and slid the ring onto his thumb as a burst of red-orange light shot out of it and resolved into Orikko. “Twice in as many days?” the Kwami observed, folding his arms and spinning through a back-flip. “I wondered if you were going to bow out after yesterday’s excitement!”

“Who, me?” Nathaniel asked, smirking down at him and breaking off a piece of the sesame seed bagel he’d picked up on the way home. “Why _wouldn’t_ I want to fight giant cats while dressed up like a giant bird?”

“I find the characterization of roosters as _birds_ to be lazy and offensive!” Orikko huffed, folding his arms. Nathaniel arched an eyebrow at him, and he rolled his eyes. “Fine, I admit it’s accurate. So what are we up to tonight?”

“King Monkey didn’t say,” he replied with a shrug, stuffing the rest of the bagel into his pocket. “Orikko, Let’s crow!”

Five minutes later, Geber vaulted across the street, rolled to his feet just outside the Champ de Mars, and raced through the park toward the usual meeting spot at the base of the Eiffel Tower. As he drew closer, he recognized King Monkey leaning on his staff near one of the tower legs. Beside him was someone wearing a black helmet that entirely covered their hair and sported a tinted shield extending down to cover the top of their head. Stopping a couple meters away, he got a closer look at the figure, who was clearly a girl, a few centimeters shorter than himself, wearing a powder-blue T-shirt and athletic pants, with black rollerblades, gloves, and knee and elbow pads to match her black helmet. She was leaning against the tower leg, and over one shoulder he could see the taped handle of an athletic stick. Something about her looked far too familiar.

“Another recruit?” Geber asked, glancing at King Monkey in question.

King Monkey shrugged. “She helped me out yesterday, so LB thought we could let her tag along,” he explained. “First mission, testing new equipment, and all that.”

“I’m just ‘tagging along,’?” the new girl scoffed. “If it weren’t for _me_ , _you_ ’d still be trapped under a bear’s ass!”

“Seriously?” retorted King Monkey. “Can’t we move past that?”

“Nope.” She turned to Geber. “Call me Sk8r Girl.” She smirked. “Spelled with an ‘8.’”

Geber furrowed his brow and tilted his head in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but none would come.

Seeing his confusion, she grinned maliciously, “It looks like a bear’s butt cheeks. Like the ones I saved Monkey Brains from!”

King Monkey groaned and buried his face in his hands. “You are _not_ going to let that go, are you?”

“Not any time soon,” she promised.

“So… what’s the plan?” Geber asked King Monkey.

Sk8r Girl laughed. “ _You_ came up with a plan???” she mocked.

King Monkey shook his head and looked at Geber. “Ignore her,” he said. “Here’s the plan: you go up to the top of the Eiffel Tower and use Vigilance. It points to enemies, right? So if we’re lucky, the ones it points us to will be the ones holding Queen Bee.”

“Huh.” Sk8r Girl nodded approvingly. “That’s… actually not a bad plan.”

“See? I’m more than just a pretty face!” King Monkey struck a pose.

“Has _anyone_ ever said you had a pretty face?” retorted Sk8r Girl.

“Why do _I_ have to be the mature one in this group?” Geber muttered, coiling his legs and springing into the tower structure, leaving their bickering behind. He clambered up the tower, jumping from beam to beam. On reaching the last observation deck at the top of the tower he jumped, swung around a pipe, and threw himself meters into the air, twisting around to land on the very tip of the tower. The whole of Paris spread out beneath him in the gloom of dusk. Carefully he pushed himself up to his feet, balancing carefully atop the antenna. Before receiving his miraculous, he had disliked heights with a burning passion; when transformed, however, nothing could throw him off his game. He drew his spur from its place on his back, twirled it above his head once, and slammed one end into the antenna tip between his feet. “Vigilance!”

An orange ring passed rapidly down the sides of the tower and spread from the tower’s base in all directions. In the fading light of dusk Geber watched the ring work its way down the streets away from him in every direction. It passed over the river, through buildings, and off into the distance without showing any signs of slowing. He held his breath.

It was nearly a minute later when an orange line darted back to the Eiffel Tower from the southwest. Seeing it coming, Geber jumped from the antenna over the observation deck, aiming to land on one of the support legs. He bent his knees to cushion the impact, swung his spur out for balance, and slid down the support on the soles of his boots. On reaching the ground he took off at a dead sprint to follow the Vigilance line. Pounding footsteps from the opposite side of the tower indicated that King Monkey had seen the line also. Geber slowed his pace slightly for the other two to catch up.

“So Chloe should be the pot of gold at the end of this orange rainbow?” Sk8r Girl asked, pumping her skates and keeping up with the two heroes easily.

“That’s the idea,” King Monkey replied.

“I hope you’re right,” commented Geber. “Orikko says that Vigilance really isn’t an exact science. It will just point out the most direct and immediate threat. That could be the guy pointing a gun at my head; it could be the chilidog I was about to eat!”

“Better keep the chilidogs away from Gassy over there,” Sk8r Girl joked, poking a thumb at King Monkey.

“… Do the two of you need to get a room?”

Sk8r Girl’s only response was retching sounds. King Monkey just laughed.

Geber rolled his eyes, not slowing down as the three heroes raced across the deserted street. The Vigilance line lit up a straight path down the center of the road ahead of them, stretching to the horizon. However, movement a block ahead of them caught Geber’s eye. He slowed down to look closer, and saw a man raising his fist to punch a woman crouching in front of him, who held her hands up protectively. Without meaning to, Geber found himself drawn across the street to investigate.

“No, p–please!” the woman begged, cradling her stomach.

“I _told_ you I didn’t want to!” the man yelled, pulling back his leg and aiming a kick at her gut.

Geber launched himself at the man and knocked him to the ground. At the same time, King Monkey landed in front of the woman, gently picked her up, and carried her to the nearby apartment building, where he set her down on the stoop. Geber grabbed the man’s shirt and hauled him up, holding him so his toes barely touched the ground. “Is that any way to treat a lady?” he asked, glaring at him.

“N–no!”

“No, it is not. So what are you going to do now?”

“L–leave her alone?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Geber agreed.

“The cops are already on their way, dirtbag,” Sk8r Girl announced, staring at him with her arms folded. “I suggest you stay here and play nice with the boys in blue. Because we’ll be watching.”

The man nodded dumbly. Geber set him down, and he sat on the edge of the sidewalk, hugging his legs. A bulldog wandered out of a nearby alley, walked up to the man, and sat down right in front of him, growling. Geber glanced at King Monkey, who frowned and raised an eyebrow in a question. They didn’t want to leave the situation like this, but they couldn’t exactly wait; every minute they delayed meant another minute in which the Vigilance line could fade and they could lose the trail. In the end, Sk8r Girl solved the question for them by skating down the Vigilance line the moment police lights appeared a couple blocks away. Geber pushed himself up and followed her, with King Monkey racing behind them.

“I suppose we can’t break up every petty crime and assault in the city at the moment,” King Monkey commented, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re probably right,” agreed Geber. “Vigilance will only last for five minutes, and then I’ll de-transform, the line will vanish, and we’ll be right back where we started. But we can’t exactly ignore something like that, right?”

“Not even a little bit.” King Monkey sighed. “Welcome to the hero gig, bro. We can’t save them all, but we sure want to try.”

“If the two of you are done, we’re here,” Sk8r Girl announced, pointing at a nightclub directly in front of them, where the street they had been running down ended in a T. The Vigilance line disappeared straight through the club’s wall.

Geber shrugged and pushed his way through the front door, ignoring the disgruntled murmuring from the crowd gathered along the wall behind a rope. The bouncer standing next to the door took one look at the three heroes, frowned in confusion, and stepped aside. “This had better be worth it,” Geber muttered to King Monkey, who nodded in agreement.

The three heroes entered the club and immediately found the orange line to their right. Following the line deeper into the building, Geber stopped in front of a table with one man sitting at it. He looked closer, groaned, and immediately turned on his heel to leave. With a thought he dismissed the Vigilance line.

“What’s wrong?” King Monkey asked, tilting his head.

“Outside.”

Geber didn’t say another word until they were again standing on the sidewalk outside the club. He pointed at one of the cars parked on the other side of the street. “You see that car?” The other two nodded. “That car almost ran me over this afternoon,” he told them. He poked a thumb over his shoulder at the club. “That car belongs to that man in there, the one Vigilance brought us to. So apparently Vigilance thought _he_ was my most immediate enemy tonight!”

King Monkey face-palmed.

“So much for that brilliant plan, huh, Monkey Brains?” Sk8r Girl smirked at them.

“I suppose we won’t be the ones to find Chloe – at least not tonight,” agreed King Monkey.

“So what do we do now?” Geber asked. “My timer is running low and I need to get home.”

King Monkey shrugged. “I guess we can give this another try some other day.”


	2. Mkufu wa Wanyama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alix, a.k.a. "Sk8r Girl," makes some animal "friends" and comes some some important realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot can be read alongside “The Queen is Dead” chapter 4, though there isn’t a direct time reference in that chapter.

Sk8r Girl shot at the stairs full-tilt. A moment before reaching them she bent her knees, balanced carefully, and jumped nearly a meter into the air, pulling her skates up to catch the railing between her wheels and ride it down to the riverfront.

Or at least that was the plan.

Instead, one of the wheels retracted into the skate and the rest spun wildly, pulling the railing out of the groove she’d caught it in. She pinwheeled her arms, desperately trying to regain her balance, but to no avail. She flipped backward onto the stairs and only barely caught herself on both hands in an approximation of a handstand. Momentum carried her over to land back on her skates, which immediately flew out from under her, depositing her on her butt on the top stair. She leaned her back against the railing, closed her eyes, and let out a string of curses.

“What happened?” Pegasus asked over the communicator built into her helmet.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” she retorted. “Part of me wishes I’d caught that move on camera; the other half really hopes no one saw that!”

“If you allow me to install a heads-up display in your helmet once this Queen Bee situation has been resolved, you will be able to record all of your stunts,” he observed with some amusement.

Sk8r Girl snorted. “Yeah, no thanks,” she replied. “That’s kind of what got me _into_ this mess in the first place. I don’t mind the tougher gloves – really useful at the moment! And the new stick is totally sick. But I’m happy with a basic helmet. And as far as these new skates… I think I prefer my _normal_ ones. These just don’t feel right somehow.”

“I apologize,” responded Pegasus. “They are merely a prototype and there are some flaws to work out of them. But once the rocket booster is functional–”

“You are _not_ putting _rockets_ under my _feet_!”

“Admittedly, you would never lose a race again,” he argued.

“I don’t need _rocket skates_ to do that now!” She scoffed. “Seriously, Horsey, leave my skates alone! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some pigeons to talk to.” She rolled her eyes. “… is a sentence that I just spoke,” she muttered.

Sk8r Girl hit a button on her new skates, retracting the wheels into the shoes, before pushing herself to her feet and walking down the steps to where M. Ramier was sitting on a bench feeding the pigeons. _They may not work as_ skates _, but at least they work well enough as_ shoes _!_

“Hello, M. Ramier,” she called.

“Oh, hello, young lady!” He looked are her in confusion. “… and who might you be?”

“At the moment? No one special. Just a girl with a _really_ weird question: Can I borrow your pigeons for a minute?”

M. Ramier gasped. “Does this has something to do with what happened at the zoo?” he asked. He shook a finger at the pigeons in front of him. “I hope none of my pretties were being naughty!”

Beneath her visor, Sk8r Girl furrowed her brows in confusion, but she resisted the urge to rub her forehead. _This is what Paris has become now, I guess…_ “This… sort of has to do with that,” she explained, “and I know for a fact there were pigeons there, but the animals were being manipulated. Or controlled. Or something. I just need to ask some questions.”

M. Ramier gestured for her to continue, and Sk8r Girl concentrated on the necklace that Pegasus had embedded into the foam padding of her helmet. A few minutes of experimentation had demonstrated that the Mkufu wa Wanyama didn’t need to be worn to be used; it was enough to be in contact with it – which was just fine by Alix. She looked down at the pigeons circling around her feet and asked, “Were any of you at the shopping center downtown two days ago?”

“Shopping center? Are there breadcrumbs there?” one pigeon asked, peering intently into her face.

“Of course there wouldn’t be breadcrumbs there!” another replied, pecking at a crumb.

“I like breadcrumbs!”

Sk8r Girl face-palmed. “You’re pigeons; of course you like breadcrumbs!” she told them, exasperated. “But I don’t care about breadcrumbs! I’m looking for my friend! She was taken from a shopping center two days ago!”

“Shopping center…” one of the pigeons repeated slowly. “The one with all the big buildings around it?”

“Yes…”

“The one with tons of cars parked outside all the time?”

“That could describe _any_ shopping center, but _yes_ …”

“The one that’s right next to the highway, only a couple minutes’ flight from the city hall building?”

“Yes! Were you there?”

The pigeon nodded. “I was there… and they have the best bagels in the food court! I got in there one time and got stuck inside, but someone had dropped a bagel on the ground and I got the whole thing to myself!” The pigeon hopped into the air and fluttered its wings excitedly. “It was the best day of my life!”

Sk8r Girl stared in disbelief. “Was the best day of your life two days ago?”

“Hmm?” The pigeon looked back up at her in confusion. “No, it was last month. No, two days ago I was roosting on the big statue right in front of the Mayor’s office. He actually tossed the crusts from his sandwich out the window for me!”

“Are you kidding me?” She threw her arms up in exasperation. “This is serious! I’m looking for my friend! Did you see what happened to her?” She drew the field hockey stick from her back and detached the two halves. “If you _do_ know and you’re holding out on me, I’m going to turn you into pigeon wings!”

“Oh. No, sorry.”

Sk8r Girl groaned. “Why did I think _pigeons_ could help me?” she grumbled, storming off.

“You know, I talk to my pigeons all the time,” M. Ramier observed behind her, “but they have never talked back to me!”

“As far as I can tell, you’re not missing much!”

* * *

An hour later, Sk8r Girl leaned against the bear cage at the Zoo, watching the bear lie on its back in the sun, moaning in contentment.

“Mmm… warm…” the bear mumbled.

“At least _someone_ ’s having a nice time today,” Sk8r Girl commented sardonically. She started. “Hang on…” she began slowly. “You were around that ‘Animal Man’ guy for a while on Friday, right?”

The bear rolled to a sitting position and turned to face her. “I was,” she confirmed, wagging her head up and down. “Worst hour of my life.”

“That bad, huh?” Sk8r Girl laughed. “Yeah, having a Zoo’s-worth of animals running amok wasn’t exactly my idea of fun, either!”

“You would go nuts, too, if some maniac kept screaming at you to get angry and go wild!” the bear retorted, letting out a low growl. “Why do you think I bopped him on the head the first chance I got?”

“So did the Animal Man say anything to you _before_ you bopped him on the head?” she asked.

The bear yawned. “Mostly ‘do this,’ ‘do that,’ ‘eat this child,’ ‘smash that car’… that kind of thing.”

“‘Sit on a superhero if you get a chance’?”

“That might have come up.” The bear nodded.

“So he didn’t say anything about his people planning to abduct a superhero?” Sk8r Girl asked.

The bear shook her head. “Not a word. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist.”

“Your friend was abducted?” a voice asked from the tree next to the bear cage.

Sk8r Girl looked up to find a squirrel sitting on a branch and staring down at her. “Yeah, a couple days ago. Why? Do you know anything about it?”

“You know…” the squirrel said, cocking its head in thought. “I might have seen something suspicious recently. It’s all pretty muddled in my head, though. Not surprising; I ate through all my stores last winter, and I might just faint from hunger and fall right out of this tree!”

Sk8r Girl pulled out a bag of trail mix and tossed some into the tree. The squirrel caught the nuts deftly in both hands and stuffed them straight into his mouth. The bear snorted, shook her head, and rolled over to nap in her patch of sun. “Happy now?” Sk8r Girl asked. “So what did you see?”

The squirrel chewed slowly, swallowed its mouthful of nuts, and collected a couple pieces of chocolate that had landed in the crook of the branch he sat on before shoving those into his mouth next. “I saw something _really_ suspicious next to a shopping center just north of here!” the squirrel exclaimed. “There were a couple of mean-looking guys taking something away from the shopping center! I even followed them!”

“Did you see where they went?” Sk8r Girl asked eagerly.

The squirrel nodded. “I followed them for blocks and blocks,” he answered, putting a paw to his forehead dramatically. “I almost lost their trail a couple times, but I managed to follow them to an abandoned grocery store just north of here!”

“Where is it?” she asked, leaning forward, giddy with excitement.

“It’s such a long ways away,” the squirrel replied, eyeing her bag of trail mix. “It will take a lot of energy for me to bring you there…”

Sk8r Girl rolled her eyes and pulled out another handful of trail mix. “Fine,” she said, tossing it at the base of the tree. “But no more until you show me where my friend is!”

Carefully the squirrel collected all the food and stored it away in a hidden knothole inside his tree before he jumped to the next tree, calling, “Follow me!” He was almost out of sight in an instant.

Sk8r Girl jumped and smacked her shoes together, deploying the recessed skates – “What d’ya know, these things actually work” – and tore off after the squirrel as fast as she could go. The squirrel set a grueling pace through the trees, racing across telephone wires and leaping the gaps between buildings. Sk8r Girl kept a careful eye on the street to avoid pedestrians and bicycles, while still watching the squirrel for when he would change directions. Eventually the squirrel dropped down onto a light pole in front of an old candy store.

“I remember when this place was open,” she commented, looking closely at the boarded-up windows and waiting for some sign of life from inside. “It didn’t close that long ago.”

“The people I followed dragged a big barrel inside,” the squirrel told her, pointing at the back door.

“How big?” she asked, grimacing. “Like, big enough to hold a body?”

“Big enough to hold a couple _hundred_ bodies!” the squirrel replied, spreading his paws wide.

She stared at him nonplussed. “… We’re not talking about the same kind of bodies here, are we?”

The squirrel sat back on his haunches and tilted his head. “Oh, you mean like _your_ size of body?” he asked. “Yeah, it could probably hold one of those.”

“Are they still in there?”

“They left right afterward,” the squirrel replied, shrugging. “I can look inside for you!”

Sk8r Girl nodded, and the squirrel raced across the parking lot, clambered up the wall, and slipped through a broken window set in the back door. She debated letting Pegasus know what was going on, but thought better of it. He told her there was a tracker on her helmet, so he already knew where she was. If there was anyone here, she could call it in then. Presently the squirrel poked his head out of the window and waved her over.

“It’s completely deserted,” the squirrel told her when she was right next to the window. “The barrel is still there, sitting in the middle of the store room.”

“Thanks, little guy,” Sk8r Girl told him, pouring some more trail mix into her hand and holding it out for him. She looked around the parking lot in some concern. She frowned. “This feels too easy.”

“Are you scared?” the squirrel asked, smirking at her – _since when can squirrels_ smirk _?_

“Hell, no!” she retorted, hitting the control to stow her wheels. The squirrel dropped out of sight and the lock clicked. Sk8r Girl pushed the door open and walked inside. A large wooden barrel stood in the middle of the store room. As Sk8r Girl approached, she noticed that the lid was covered with a fine layer of dust. The lid was sealed tightly. With some trepidation, she stuck the head of her field hockey stick into the space under the lid and pushed, prying it open. The lid popped off easily enough, and she pushed it onto the floor to look inside. When she did, she gasped.

“ _Dried fruit!?!?!_ ” she shrieked, glaring at the squirrel in rage. “You brought me all this way for some _dried fruit_? You made me feed you for information, and you brought me her to get you _more_ food!?!”

The squirrel dived into the barrel and shoved dried dates into his mouth. “You should have seen your face!” he cackled around a mouthful of dried dates. “Priceless!”

She detached the two halves of her field hockey stick, held the ends a couple centimeters apart, and pushed the trigger. An electric spark shot between the ends. “I oughta tase you for this!” she growled.

The squirrel jumped out of the barrel, leapt into the rafters, and ran away, chattering riotously.

“You stupid squirrel!”

At that moment, a portal opened right next to her and Pegasus stuck his head through it. “I trust that there is an explanation behind that statement,” he observed. “That is the first phrase of French you’ve spoken in about 3 hours!”

Sk8r Girl glowered at him and pushed past him through the portal. “I think I’m done here.”

“Have you discovered anything?” Pegasus asked.

“Yeah.” She pulled the helmet off her head and threw it across the lab. “You can’t trust a squirrel!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a real-world story behind Alix’s conversation with Pegasus. I originally intended for her to get all kinds of tech upgrades (rocket skates, HUD on her helmet…), but when I mentioned that to a friend on FF.net she pointed out that Alix shouldn’t need all of that since she has the Mkufu wa Wanyama. I actually didn’t plan for anyone to use the Mkufu wa Wanyama at the moment, but that got me thinking. So Pegasus is basically the author trying to tech everything up, while Alix just wants to be!


	3. Cornucopia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Pinky does a little gardening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story follows "The Queen is Dead" [chapter 5](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24752512/chapters/60036709).

Rose was lost in her book when a soft tapping on her bedroom window drew her attention. There on the windowsill crouched Rena Rouge. The hero waved to her when she caught her eye, beckoning her over to the window. Rose marked her place in the book, carefully set it aside, and went over to open the window. Rena Rouge quietly slipped inside and handed her a familiar box.

“Rena?” Rose asked. “I didn’t think I was scheduled for patrol tonight.”

“You aren’t,” Rena Rouge replied, grinning. “But I thought you might be missing Daizzi already. Besides, I need your help. It doesn’t look like you’re overly busy tonight, so are you in?”

“Is this about Chloe? Did you find her?”

“Yes to the first question – obviously – but no to the second,” answered Rena Rouge. Her eyes glinted mischievously. “You’re helping me find a way to find a _way_ to find Chloe. Maybe.”

“That still made no sense.”

Rena Rouge grinned. “Come on, girl; I’ll explain on the way.”

Five minutes later, Miss Pinky was racing across rooftops after Rena Rouge, using her jiuchidingpa rake to vault the widest streets and trying to keep up with the plan Rena Rouge was trying to explain.

“–And so I thought we could listen to whatever the fake-Chloe said and wait for them to slip up, but that’s just taking too long, so instead we’re going to give them false information and put their people in motion.” Rena Rouge stopped on the roof across from an old warehouse with its windows blacked out and several old abandoned cars parked in its loading yard.

“Is this where they’re keeping Chloe?” Miss Pinky asked, eyeing the entrance closely.

“Nope. Wish it could be that easy. Lynchpin uses this place as a distribution center for all his drug dealers. Tomorrow night we’re going to fake a raid on one of Lynchpin’s warehouses and see if his people lead us to her.”

“This warehouse?”

“Nope again.” Rena Rouge giggled. “But Lynchpin doesn’t know that! You’re going to do some ‘landscaping’ here to keep his boys occupied for a couple hours. Grow a hedgerow maze in the shape of Chloe’s head or something, make it look like we’re trying to obscure everything so we can have an entire army assault this place. Meanwhile, _I_ ’m going to place cameras around the _real_ target.”

“Wait… you’re using me as bait? This sounds like a _terrible_ idea…” Miss Pinky muttered.

“Relax, girl,” Rena Rouge assured her. “Pegasus will be monitoring us the whole time. If you get in trouble, just say ‘Tulip’ and he’ll send in the cavalry.”

“Why are we using ‘Tulip’?” asked Miss Pinky, wide-eyed. “If we’re using flowers, why can’t it be ‘Rose’?”

Rena Rouge face-palmed and mumbled something under her breath. “Just do the thing already, girl,” she muttered, “before I regret suggesting that Ladybug recruit you!” Having said that, she dropped back from the roof’s edge and faded into the night.

Miss Pinky stuck her tongue out and frowned as she considered her task. This sounded like a slightly-larger project than any she’d attempted before; her practice runs up to now had all been similar: a single stroke intended to grow a bunch of different plants in the furrows. Hedgerows, however… hedgerows in a _maze_ pattern… that would take a little more thought and planning. Instead of growing nine rows of plants, she would have to focus the Cornucopia into a single row to grow bushes… She spun her jiuchidingpa one-handed and examined the loading yard critically. Twisting the handle to point at the loading yard, she took a picture of the entire area which she brought up on the screen extending down from the jiuchidingpa’s head. One of the rake’s nine tines detached, and she used the tip as a stylus to draw her design over the picture. This was her favorite part of this power: perhaps her ability wasn’t _creation_ like Ladybug’s, but she could shape plants in any way she wanted to make an area beautiful. She had asked Ladybug about using Cornucopia to grow a garden outside her house, in the median she walked past every day to lycée, along the riverbank by the _Liberty_ … City hall _desperately_ needed some irises and jonquil along the walkway… She could even grow an entire vegetable garden on the apartment building’s roof to feed her family and all their neighbors!

In retrospect, maybe Ladybug had had a point in denying her request…

Her earpiece coming to life almost made her drop her jiuchidingpa off the roof.

“Rena Rouge is in position,” Pegasus reported. “We are just waiting on your distraction, Miss Pinky.”

“Just give me a second,” she responded. “You can’t rush creativity!”

“You realize the odds against this lasting beyond tonight are astronomical, correct?”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “Still, there’s no harm in taking pride in your work, Pegasus.” She replaced her stylus, slipped off the roof, and landed quietly near one corner of the yard. “But anyways I was just putting the finishing touches on my plan when you called. I’m starting now!”

Miss Pinky twirled her jiuchidingpa over her head with both hands and slammed it into the asphalt, muttering, “Cornucopia!” The rake cut into the asphalt as though it was sand, and she quickly ran around the yard, dragging the rake behind her. First she traced a long line straight across the yard three meters from the warehouse opposite their target, then a diagonal cutting straight across the yard. A trio of quick lines created the entrance to the maze, right in front of the warehouse’s front doors. She crisscrossed the yard, weaving around and between the abandoned cars, forming an intricate pattern of pathways, all of which led to dead ends. Satisfied with her work, she stepped out of the maze pattern and exhaled heavily, releasing the magic which she had kept bottled up inside while she traced.

The hedges sprouted and grew swiftly and silently from the center furrow of her design, pushing the asphalt aside. Miss Pinky watched cautiously, occasionally glancing at the warehouse and waiting for the people inside to notice what was happening.

When the hedges had grown to around thigh-high, the warehouse door cracked open and someone stuck their head out. Miss Pinky caught a quick glimpse of the shock on his face in the moment when he noticed the surprise appearance of the hedge maze in their loading area, a second before the door slammed shut again. Taking advantage of the momentary respite, she de-transformed behind one of the hedges, gave Daizzi a handful of nuts, and transformed back. By then the hedges had reached shoulder height, and the warehouse door opened again. Dozens of goons poured through the door.

“I think they figured out what I did,” Miss Pinky observed wryly.

“Are you okay still?” asked Pegasus.

“Oh, yeah. I don’t think they have any idea what to _do_ about the hedges yet!”

“Remember, we want them to think the hedges are important, but you do not actually need to save them!” Pegasus instructed her.

“Oh, but they’re so pretty!” she joked. “Why _wouldn’t_ I want to save them?”

“Because we would prefer to finish the night with zero casualties? Because if we let something happen to you, Ladybug would probably murder us?”

Miss Pinky rolled her eyes but raced down the far side of the maze, crouching below the level of the still-growing plants. Coming around the corner at full speed, she saw a couple of guys with machetes hacking away at the hedges. However, no sooner could they cut off one branch than another grew out to take its place. One of the men glanced over and spotted Miss Pinky. He gave a shout, and the rest turned to face her. She, however, planted the head of her jiuchidingpa, spun around, and kicked the first man in the face with her heel. He lost his balance and fell backward into the hedge, which instantly engulfed him. He struggled feebly to free himself before the hedge completely enclosed him, but couldn’t escape before the hedge branches grew around his arms, pinning him in place.

Miss Pinky landed in a crouch and spun the jiuchidingpa over her head. She brought it down at an angle, scything the head through the crowd. The group of thugs fell back, with a couple retreating into the maze while the rest fled into the building.

“What? Are you afraid of a couple bushes?” she taunted. She was about to pursue those who had entered the maze when the warehouse door flew open again and she heard a loud buzzing sound from within.

Out of the warehouse emerged a pair of men wielding chainsaws, both of whom immediately turned on the hedges, trying to cut them off at the trunks. In a matter of moments, they had created a small opening in the hedgerow and begun to expand it in either direction.

Miss Pinky tiptoed up behind one of them silently, folded her arms, and asked, “Now what did these bushes ever do to you?”

The man spun around, swinging his chainsaw in front of him. Miss Pinky whipped the jiuchidingpa in front of herself and blocked the strike. The chainsaw bounced off the rake shaft and shimmied in the man’s hands. Before she could take advantage, however, the other chainsaw man turned from his work and attacked her, shouting in rage. Miss Pinky ducked below the swinging chainsaw and slapped him in the back with the jiuchidingpa’s head, poking nine holes through his leather jacket. She tugged on the jiuchidingpa, and the jacket tore in strips. The man stumbled forward and ran his chainsaw through the warehouse wall right next to the still-open door.

Miss Pinky spun around on hearing the buzz of the other chainsaw drawing closer to her head. She lifted her jiuchidingpa and blocked the chainsaw with a moment to spare. Spinning her leg forward and twisting, she tripped the man in front of her, planted the jiuchidingpa, and spun around it to dodge the answering strike from the other man. The rake head came up to parry the chainsaw, and the chainsaw blade stuck between two tines. Miss Pinky twisted her wrist and tore the chainsaw out of the man’s hands, throwing it over the re-grown hedgerow into the middle of the maze. The other chainsaw man still hadn’t gotten to his feet. She walked over and kicked his still-running chainsaw out of his hands, sending it clattering to the far end of the hedgerow.

She was just about to let out a breath when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end. She dropped to the ground on instinct, a moment before the night was bathed in an orange glow.

Pushing herself back up into a crouch, she glanced behind her to see that a van had stopped between the hedgerow and warehouse and disgorged a dozen men with flamethrowers strapped to their backs, one of whom stood less than a meter from her position. The flamethrowers were fanning out along the hedgerow, dousing everything in their path with fire.

“Well, I got their attention,” Miss Pinky observed. “They do _not_ seem very happy with me at the moment!” A glance in the other direction revealed a second van full of men with flamethrowers on the opposite side of the hedgerow, cutting off her escape. “I’m kind of wishing I’d added some _tulips_ to this design at the moment…”

“Hang on,” Pegasus told her. “Retreat if possible. The cavalry will be there momentarily.”

Miss Pinky leapt to the top of the hedge behind her to survey the scene. A pair of thugs had gotten lost in the middle of the maze; one was trying to cut his way out with the chainsaw. Men with flamethrowers had lined up along three of the maze’s outside walls, which were alight and even now filling the air with thick black smoke. The plants themselves had reached around four meters in height in some places, but had slowed their frenetic rate of growth. The far end of the maze was still untouched; if she was going to escape, that was the place to go. She jumped from one wall to the next, avoiding the men in the middle of the maze and trying to keep the smoke between herself and the flamethrowers. Somewhere a man’s voice shouted a warning and a chorus of weapons cocked. She was about to dive into the maze when Ladybug swooped past overhead, followed by Cat Noir. The two heroes landed on top of the hedgerow opposite her and raced around the periphery while gunshots rang out from the ground.

Before she could race around to join them, however, Pegasus asked, “Where can they land inside the maze without anyone nearby to see them?”

 _Why does he need that? Can’t they see for themselves?_ “Two rows in,” she replied, nonplussed. “Jump over that car and then they’re clear.” A moment later, she watched Ladybug and Cat Noir jump down from the hedgerow and vanish in a puff of smoke. “What–”

“That will keep them occupied for hours,” observed Pegasus, chuckling. “Now it is time for you to leave. Good job, Miss Pinky: Mission accomplished.”


	4. Multitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multiplice and Taureau Dechaine stumble onto a suspicious warehouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot takes place after “The Queen is Dead” [Chapter 6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24752512/chapters/60084730). Given the focus on “minor characters,” I’d forgotten just how many of the heroes don’t actually know the identities of heroes other than Adrien, Marinette, and Chloe.
> 
> Non-Canon Heroes:  
> Multiplice – Mylène (Mouse Miraculous)  
> Taureau Dechaine – Ivan (Ox Miraculous)

“It was so much fun listening to your rehearsal this morning!” Mylène squeezed Ivan’s arm in excitement. “I think you’re really coming along well!”

“Playing for an audience definitely makes the rehearsals more fun,” he agreed, smiling gently.

“I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much time with Kagami as I have this week,” she observed. “I didn’t know she actually had a sense of humor!”

“I didn’t know her mother was letting her out of the tower!” Ivan joked, letting out a deep laugh.

“She told me that she and Max have an arrangement,” Mylène confided. “He’s going to spend _some_ time tutoring her, but he’s also giving her an alibi so she can have some _fun_ over the break. She said Chloe had invited her to hang out this week, but…” she shrugged. “She was disappointed about Chloe’s “busy schedule,” but happy enough to listen to Kitty Section.”

Ivan frowned. “I do wish we were playing better this week, if we’re going to have a new audience for these rehearsals. It didn’t feel like we were really in sync for most of today’s rehearsal.”

“Because you were missing Adrien?”

Ivan shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, we were fine without him for two years, so it’s not like we haven’t played without keyboard before. No, I think we’ve just been distracted.”

Mylène hummed and eyed him curiously. “Why do you think that was then?”

He shrugged. “Well, last week Luka was going to look into studios for our first professional album,” he replied. “Maybe that’s why he didn’t seem too focused. That doesn’t explain Rose yawning halfway through the first song, though.”

Mylène giggled. “It’s spring break. She was probably up late reading and lost track of the time. You have _no_ idea how often she does that!”

“Of course, it’s not like _we_ weren’t distracted, too, this morning.”

“Well, yeah,” Mylène agreed, “but we have a good reason, what with Chloe and all…”

Ivan frowned. “Now that you mention it,” he began, “I wonder how many of the others were distracted by Chloe, also…”

“How could they?” asked Mylène, wide-eyed. “Carapace said they’re keeping it completely quiet and not even the Mayor knows. The only ones who know are the Heroes.”

Ivan looked down at her and raised one eyebrow.

“I don’t think I’m ready to go down _that_ particular rabbit hole yet,” she commented firmly.

“Don’t you mean ‘Mouse Hole’?”

“Shut up.” She shook her head affectionately and rested it on his arm. “Why do I put up with you?”

Ivan laughed. However, the laugh cut off abruptly as they both heard a noise from the river side of the warehouse they were walking past. Mylène took a surreptitious glance at the building in question as a boat pulled away from the dock next to it. She didn’t know why, but the boat set off alarm bells in her head. Maybe it was the tilt of the driver’s head. Maybe it was arrogance of the passenger’s mien. Maybe it was the unmarked crates in the back of the boat.

Maybe she was just hyper-aware of her surroundings this week.

She glanced up at Ivan, whose eyes had narrowed into slits while examining the warehouse. She could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. His phone was already up to his ear.

“Yeah, Pegasus? What can you tell me about the warehouse I’m right next to?” Ivan was quiet for a minute. “Okay, we’ll check it out.”

“We’re doing this?” Mylène asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

He frowned as he led her past the warehouse in question, turned down an alleyway, and smashed a window to let them into the abandoned building across the street. “That warehouse is supposed to be deserted, but clearly it’s not. Maybe Chloe’s here?”

“You don’t really think so.”

“No,” he admitted. “I don’t think Pegasus does, either, to be honest, but we can hope.”

Mylène took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and transformed. As the light faded, Multiplice looked up at Taureau Dechaine, who stared back at her with concern.

“I could come in with you,” he offered.

“You realize you’re about as sneaky as an _ox_ , right?” she replied sardonically, inserting her earpiece. “Trust me: for something like this I’m better off going in on my own. Multitude!”

Multiplice shrunk and multiplied into several dozen clones. It had taken practice to get used to the sensation of controlling and processing sensory input from dozens of clones all at the same time – to say nothing of figuring out how to carry out ordinary tasks at a smaller size – but with every attempt it got a little easier. The clones raced across the street as fast as their tiny legs could carry them. One by one they slid under the warehouse door and fanned out through the interior.

The first thing Multiplice noticed in the warehouse was the low humming noise coming from all around her. The warehouse consisted of a single large room taking up the entire space, the outer walls lined with bins and tubs. A massive work station in the middle of the room held several large machines. Several Multiplice clones scurried up onto the work station, following the soft blue glow emanating from one side. A trio climbed up on a metal frame structure lying on the floor next to the work station. At a command, the remaining clones scattered to explore the contents of the bins and tubs. Each tub was filled to the brim with a different electronic component. As they explored, Multiplice realized that the humming noise came from a couple of the machines she had missed, which were in the process of fabricating plastic circuit boards, each of which fell into a tub next to the machines.

“Someone is definitely working here,” Multiplice observed. “These bins are full of electronic components, circuit boards, microchips… you name it. I’m not sure what they’re building, though.”

One of the clones looked up at the glowing computer monitor on the work station and jumped on a few keys on the keyboard in front of it. “It’s displaying blueprints for something,” she reported. “I think one of these devices is a 3-D printer, but I couldn’t tell you what it’s supposed to be making.”

“Send it to me,” Pegasus instructed.

The Multiplice clone removed her tail/jump rope and flicked one handle out. The USB cord expanded to normal size, and she inserted it into the computer terminal. With a couple presses of a button, she cloned the computer hard drive and sent it to Pegasus. As she watched, a warning screen came up on the computer and started flashing red. “Pegasus…”

“Just a moment,” he muttered. In the background she heard him typing furiously. The warning winked once and disappeared. “Much of the data is encrypted. However, if my analysis is correct, the printer file is producing plastic housings into which the electronic components are inserted. The file does not include information regarding their purpose or function. Can you find a completed example?”

Multiplice quickly sorted through input from all the clones. “Not of the housing itself,” she answered. “All the pieces I see are the electronics. Probably they assemble a whatever as soon as they print the housing. I do see a bunch of something long and thin that might be the finished product in a crate in one corner. It–it sort of looks like a gun. Near there on a table _is_ something that looks… familiar. I can’t exactly place it, but I feel like I’ve seen something like it before.” The clone standing on that table ran her hand along the smooth, plastic-like casing. “Hang on… you know that funny-looking weapon on your work table? This looks similar.”

“I… I had no idea where were any more of them in circulation,” Pegasus whispered in surprise. “The odds against it were astronomical!” He chuckled. “I suppose that is a poor choice of words. Or perhaps an appropriate choice.”

“Maybe you ought to hurry it up in there, _mon amour_ ,” Taureau Dechaine warned. “Someone’s approaching from the street. Want me to get rid of him?”

Multiplice considered for a moment. “No,” she decided, as a pair of clones crawled up the doorposts. “I’ll do it.”

A moment later the warehouse door opened and a tall, thin man stepped inside. He looked around, but before he’d taken more than a step, the two Multiplice clones jumped off the doorframe and kicked him in the head, one aiming at his cheek and the other at the back of his head. His head twisted around with the impact and he fell to the ground on his cheek. The two clones landed on top of him, raced down his back, and slipped into his pants pockets. “I found a flash drive here,” one reported. “He has a lynchpin in his pocket,” said the other.

“I think we have seen enough,” Pegasus announced. “Bring the flash drive over to the work station. I am opening a portal.”

In moments a portal opened in a swirl of light next to the work station and Pegasus stepped through. One Multiplice clone handed him the flash drive, which he immediately plugged into his horseshoe. “I thought as much,” he muttered under his breath. “This drive contains the encryption key for the computer system.” He handed it back to the clone. “Return this to his pocket.”

A trio of Multiplice clones dragged a handgun over from an open crate on the far side of the warehouse. Pegasus picked it up and examined it closely. “King Monkey found a similar weapon last week,” he informed her, pulling a panel off the back and tracing the wiring with his finger. “This one, however, appears to be an improved design.” He looked around critically. “Yes, there is a better-than-65% chance that this is Lynchpin’s research and development facility.” He smirked. “If we destroy this, it may set his weapons development efforts back by months! I think we are going to require your assistance now, Taureau Dechaine.”

A minute later, Taureau Dechaine stepped carefully over the unconscious man lying in the middle of the doorway. Multiplice summoned all her clones to the table in the center of the room, all of them carrying samples of the circuit boards and chips.

Pegasus raced around the warehouse, photographing everything. He stopped near the table, picked up the weapon that Multiplice had recognized, pointed it at the table, and pulled the trigger. A solid beam of white energy lanced from the barrel and disintegrated the table in an instant. “From your description I suspected at much,” he muttered, turning it back and forth in his hands. “Although all the evidence suggested that there were only the two…” He carefully set the weapon down where the table had been, a troubled look in his eyes. “That is a concern for another week, however.” He held out a bag for the Multiplice clone to place their samples in, which he placed in his lab once it was full, along with one of the handguns and a rifle. Finally, he and Taureau Dechaine pushed one of the large fabrication machines through the portal into his lab.

“Unfortunately we cannot requisition more of this equipment,” Pegasus said, frowning in disappointment. “If possible, we need to leave them ignorant of our involvement in this ‘accident.’ So as much of the equipment must remain in place as possible.” He pointed to a pair of pillars near the center of the warehouse. “Push those pillars in the direction of the river at the same time, and you will bring the entire building down.”

“Is this going to get us closer to finding Chloe?” Multiplice asked, testing the weight of an energy rifle.

“Unlikely,” admitted Pegasus. “Based on everything we know of Lynchpin and his organization, I estimate only a 5% chance that the data on this computer will include information about Chloe – or any of his other operations, for that matter. It is always possible, but certainly not probable.

“But,” he added, “it will hurt Lynchpin’s operation, and this week I would call that a win.”


	5. In-Stripe-Tion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bengalia goes on patrol with Viperion and Ryoku

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place roughly concurrent with “The Queen is Dead” [Chapter 7](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24752512/chapters/60134647).
> 
> My version of the Tiger Miraculous is pretty similar to SailorChibi’s [“Miraculous Hive”](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1283612) series (among others). There are some differences – the ability does the same thing but has a different name, the weapon is slightly different, the transformation phrase is different – but credit where credit’s due. You may remember that in the alternate future timeline of “Running out of Time,” Juleka received the Goat Miraculous. This is one of the changes between that timeline and the main one.

Under ordinary circumstances, Juleka wouldn’t have batted an eye at seeing Rena Rouge jump from roof to roof across the street from her family’s houseboat. Considering that the Heroes of Paris had become regular fixtures in the Paris landscape over the last three years, people had actually stopped paying more than passing attention to them unless there was an immediate threat present. At least two of them patrolled the city every night, and seldom was there a parade or festival where a couple of the Heroes of Paris _didn’t_ put in an appearance. At a certain point, for most citizens, the Heroes of Paris almost blended into the scenery.

However, these were _not_ ordinary circumstances, and Juleka was not “most citizens.” Juleka knew for a fact that Miss Pinky and King Monkey were scheduled to patrol tonight. And Rena Rouge was actually scheduled to patrol _tomorrow_ night… with her. And the _Liberty_ wasn’t on the usual patrol route anyways.

So where was Rena Rouge going in such a hurry? Had they found Queen Bee?

If she had her miraculous, maybe she would have followed her to find out.

She smacked her fist against the railing in frustration. She’d been Queen Bee’s partner at the press conference, and she hadn’t reacted at all while her _partner_ was being captured by Lynchpin’s goons! When he had alerted everyone, Carapace had assured her that no one blamed her for what had happened, that everyone made mistakes, that Pegasus, Rena Rouge, _and_ Impératrice Pourpre were all there watching the events at the press conference, and none of them saw what had happened or had any indication that something was wrong. He’d told her all of this, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

She didn’t turn around when she heard Luka’s soft footsteps behind her.

“Thinking about what a nice night this would be to run across the rooftops, sis?”

Juleka did turn around at that. “I’m sorry?” she asked, her eyes widening in surprise involuntarily before she could stop herself. She had only been a hero for two weeks; had she given herself away already? Ladybug would _not_ be happy… “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he replied, pulling an all-too-familiar box from his pocket and nodding for her to follow him into the bridge, “would you and Roaar like to join Sass and me for a run around the city tonight? Ryoku and I have been working with a visiting miraculous hero to hunt down her millennia-long nemesis, the Bat Miraculous holder. Plus we might find something to lead us back to Queen Bee.”

Juleka stared at him, jaw open, for a full minute. “Should I be concerned that that sentence made perfect sense to me?” she finally asked, arching an eyebrow at him as she closed the door behind them.

Luke simply grinned and pressed the box into her hand. She opened it, and a magenta streak appeared from the bracelet it contained and resolved into Roaar, who flitted around her head once before settling on her shoulder. “Juleka!” the Kwami squealed, nuzzling her chin. “It’s been way too long!”

Juleka smiled down at Roaar, and patted her head. “It’s been like four days,” she giggled. “But I missed you, too!” She removed the bracelet, clasped it around her right wrist, and slipped the rings onto her fingers. She looked up at Luka, eyes narrowed in a question, and asked, “Didn’t Ladybug say we were supposed to keep our identities a secret?”

He chuckled. “Your identity is your own secret to share or not share as you choose – or at least it’s a secret to all but a select few. I just happened to already know your identity because I suggested that Ladybug recruit you. So… are you in?”

“For a secret mission with my lame big brother?” She shrugged. “Roaar, Stripes on!” The magenta light that covered her body left behind a skin-tight magenta bodysuit with a pair of horizontal purple stripes on either side of her torso and on the outsides of her legs. A pair of fake ears emerged from her black hair, which had acquired magenta streaks. The miraculous on her wrist tightened to fit snugly without moving and was encased in a protective sheath. The paw plate pattern of the sheath covered the whole back of her hand and merged in with the bracelet itself. A ridge on the bracelet lifted up away from her wrist above the sheath; that was where her claws would extend.

Bengalia grinned at Viperion, who had transformed when she had. “Let’s do this!” she told him. “It’s not like I had anything _better_ planned tonight!”

* * *

A couple minutes later, Bengalia and Viperion arrived in front of the Louvre, where Ryoku was pacing impatiently in front of the building. Another miraculous user in a red-and-blue outfit was leaning against the glass pyramid in front, watching Ryoku.

“Brought in a rookie?” Ryoku asked, grinning at Bengalia and eyeing her appraisingly.

Viperion laughed. “You realize you’ve only had your miraculous a few months longer than she has, right?” he commented. “I figure, four of us can cover more ground than just three.”

The newcomer shrugged. “What’s one more of you?” she asked rhetorically, holding a hand out to Bengalia. “I’m Hato Gozen.”

“Bengalia.”

“Great, we’re all friends now,” Ryoku announced, bouncing on the balls of her feet with restless energy. “So let’s go find our _not_ -friend already.”

“Right,” Viperion replied, fiddling with his lyre. “Start at the river and work out from there. If you find him, call it in and try to lead him away from water. I’ll take Bengalia and cover the east half of the city. Can you two split up the west half?”

“Fine by me,” Ryoku told him, glancing at Hato Gozen once before racing south toward the river and leaping over it in a single jump. Hato Gozen followed her to the river, turned right and paralleled her along the north bank.

“Well they seem nice,” Bengalia observed, following Viperion up onto the roof of the building due east of the museum.

“You haven’t gotten to work with Ryoku yet, have you?” he asked, jumping over to the next building and waiting for her to follow. “No, I suppose not. She takes a little getting used to… a little impulsive… but a good person to have at your side. Hato Gozen? She’s not much of one for teams. But, then, she’s been on her own for so long that I don’t think she trusts easily.”

“So they’re both more of solo acts than ensemble players?” Bengalia commented, keeping pace with him easily.

“You’re catching on.” Viperion swung his lyre over a telephone pole to zip-line across a particularly-wide street. “But just between us, I think Ryoku would like to have an ensemble.”

Bengalia leapt up onto the telephone line and ran across it as a tightrope. “Are you thinking about recruiting her for Kitty Section?” she asked as she landed next to him on the next building.

He shook his head. “From what she’s said, I don’t think she can play an instrument to save her life.” He laughed gently. “But she can definitely make her sword sing!”

“So you’re going to write a song with a wicked katana solo?” Bengalia smirked. “I’m pretty sure that would be a world-first!”

“Hmm,” Viperion thought, plucking a couple strings on his lyre. “There’s an idea… I–” He cut off abruptly and dropped to a crouch on the edge of the roof off which he was just about to leap.

Bengalia stopped next to him and glanced down, just in time for him to grab her hand and pull her down to crouch at his side. He held a finger to his lips and pointed at two people standing across the street and several blocks down.

“Do you see that man on the right?” he whispered.

Bengalia nodded. The man in question looked vaguely familiar, though he wore a long coat that partially disguised his features. “What about him?” she asked quietly.

Viperion’s eyes were narrowed suspiciously. “He’s a police officer. He’s the one who was insisting that our docking papers were incorrect last week.”

“So who’s the guy he’s talking to?”

“I’m not sure,” Viperion admitted. “I recognize him from somewhere, but I can’t quite place him. Go down there and get close to them. Just keep an eye on your timer.”

Bengalia nodded and whispered, “In-Stripe-Tion.” As though she had stepped into a cold shower, she felt streaks of something sliding down her body from her hair all the way down to her toes. Looking at her hands, she could still see her own outline, but she could also look through herself to see the rooftop and the alley. “This is _so_ cool,” she muttered.

“Don’t forget: you’re invisible, but they can still hear you,” Viperion observed, smiling.

“Yes, _Mom_.” Bengalia dropped the three stories to the ground, ran out of the alley, and sprinted down the street until she was directly across from the two men. Carefully looking both ways, she strode across the street and stopped just off the sidewalk two meters from them.

“–I’m just saying,” the one Viperion had identified as a police officer said, “the Captain is starting to wonder why so many of your boys are falling through cracks in the system. It would play well if we could actually convict a couple of them.”

“And _I’m_ telling _you_ ,” the other man retorted, “that you need to do your job. We’re not paying you to get _convictions_ ; we’re paying you to get our guys _out_.”

Bengalia’s eyebrows shot up. She pressed one of the pads on her paw plate to begin recording. Next she held her right hand up in front of her face, made a fist, and squeezed twice. Turning her palm over, she swiped through the pictures displayed on the palm of her glove and sent them to Viperion.

“Don’t you want me in a position to help you?” the cop asked. “I’m no good to you if they fire me.”

“They won’t fire you if you do it right; you’re just ‘doing your job,’ right? No need to go after small potatoes like you. They’ll go after your boss.”

“But isn’t it good for you if I get promoted to replace the Captain if he gets fired?”

“Do you think we’re interested in your _career_?” scoffed the other. “You should worry a little less about your _career_ , and a little more about your _son_!”

“Please don’t hurt him!” the cop begged, his face twisted up in distress.

Bengalia frowned and looked down at her timer: only one pad remained. She took a couple more pictures and raced down the street, back toward where she had left Viperion. He was waiting for her in the same alley she’d left from. She leaned against the wall next to him and willed In-Stripe-Tion to end. Viperion’s eyes widened slightly when she reappeared, but otherwise he didn’t react.

“Not bad,” he observed, smirking. “You kicked a little gravel when you entered the alley.”

“You’re always so critical,” she teased. “Like that last rehearsal when you totally missed that I played a D7 instead of a D6?”

“So _that_ ’s why it sounded so awful!”

“Anyways, I got something,” she told him, bringing up the audio file and handing him an earpiece. “Proof that someone is paying this cop off and threatening his son.”

“Good work,” he praised her after listening to a few minutes, putting an arm around her in a brief hug. “This doesn’t get us any closer to finding Night Bat, but it’s definitely something. Send it to Pegasus along with the pictures you took. Maybe knowing about this dirty cop can help him track down Queen Bee.”

When Viperion turned north, Bengalia gave him a confused look. “I got a message from Ryoku while you were watching them. She already finished checking her section, so she’s going to do a sweep of everything south of the Seine on our side. We just need to check out everything north on the east side of the city, and then we’ll meet back up with her at the Louvre.”

After Bengalia recharged, she and Viperion cautiously edged back from the main street, careful to avoid making noise or being seen by the two men still conversing on the street corner. They took to the roofs and raced down parallel streets. Bengalia scanned everything, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, aside from helping a drunk stumble his way home from a bar, it was an uneventful evening, with no signs of either Night Bat or Chloe. They reached the far north edge of the city, raced alongside an abandoned medical clinic, and followed the Rue Marx Dormoy back to the Louvre.

Ryoku was already waiting for them, sword out and dancing across the courtyard, practicing her footwork. She stopped and held her sword pointing down at her side when they arrived. “Nothing to report,” she told them. “I got Hato Gozen back to the apartment without any trouble.”

“Same for us,” responded Viperion. “Maybe Night Bat has decided to lay low for a while. He did take some pretty good hits in that fight; he might not have recovered yet.”

“We can only hope,” Ryoku agreed. She turned to face Bengalia. “You have claws, right?” When Bengalia nodded, she continued, “Carapace hasn’t bothered teaching you to use them, has he? Of course he hasn’t; he’s got a shield, so he thinks everything’s a big Frisbee. So. Do you want to spar some?”

Bengalia raised an eyebrow at Viperion, who simply smiled back at her, sat down with his back against the pyramid, and started playing a tune on his lyre. Glancing back at Ryoku, she noticed a glint in the other girl’s eyes; it didn’t take a genius to see that she wanted to stay out a little longer. _Ensemble it is._ Bengalia dropped into a fighting stance as she jerked her elbow back and squeezed her fist to extend her claws. “Let’s do it!”

“Excellent!” Ryoku watched her calmly for a moment before bringing her sword up in a lightning-quick strike at Bengalia’s chest. Bengalia spun away and ducked to avoid the blow before dropping to the ground to sweep Ryoku’s legs out from under her. Ryoku, however, wasn’t there. Bengalia felt the flat of a blade swat her shoulder from behind.

“Not bad,” Ryoku told her, stepping back and lifting her sword away so Bengalia could stand back up. “But don’t forget about your weapon. Carapace focuses entirely on defense and hand-to-hand combat in his training. That’s all well and good for someone like him or Viperion, but not for us. We’re the weapons on this team. You have a weapon; you need to _use_ it! Try a downward slash at my shoulder.”

Bengalia raised her hand, leapt forward, and swept her claws down as directed. Ryoku raised her sword and caught the claws on the blade.

“Good! Your claws are good for slashing attacks, and they’re also good for stabbing attacks,” Ryoku instructed. “This time, go for a stab.”

Bengalia stepped back and watched Ryoku’s eyes, her claws held steady in front of her chest. Suddenly, she surged forward, punching with her right hand and aiming her claws at Ryoku’s stomach. Ryoku spun out of the way, and Bengalia swiped her claws after her, following the stab with a slash. Ryoku’s spin ended with her facing the swinging claws, and she raised her sword and blocked the slash. Then she lifted her elbow and caught Bengalia in the chest, simultaneously pushing her claws away and opening her up to a kick in the chest.

Ryoku nodded approvingly as Bengalia regained her balance and rubbed her chest where the kick had landed. “Just like that! Change your attack in the middle when your opponent reacts to it. But don’t forget you have more weapons. You can’t forget about your claws, but don’t rely on them exclusively! When I blocked your slash, my side was exposed, just as much as your chest was exposed. Watch for those openings and exploit them.” Ryoku backed away a pace. “This time I’m going to attack and I want you to dodge the first strike, redirect the second, and catch the third.”

Bengalia nodded and dropped into a crouch. Ryoku slowly stepped forward and swung her sword down at an angle. Bengalia ducked and dodged below the strike. When Ryoku followed it with another angled swing from the other side, she caught it flat on her outer claw and pushed the sword blade down into the ground. Finally, Ryoku slashed horizontally, and Bengalia caught the blade between her claws and paw plate. Ryoku relaxed, eased the pressure, and withdrew her sword, stepping back a pace as she did so.

“Nice job,” Ryoku told her, grinning. “Just be careful with that move: a miraculous weapon can cut through your suit. If you want, we can do this again some night. How much control do you have over your claws?”

Bengalia frowned. “I’m not sure; I haven’t really used them all that much yet.”

“We’ll have to correct that before this break is over!”

“You know what? That sounds awesome!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve treated the miraculous this way, but haven’t actually stated it: miraculous with a timed ability (Turtle, Fox, Snake, Tiger, Mouse, etc.) actually have two timers in my “head canon.” The first is the timer for their ability; the second is for their transformation, which only starts after the ability ends. This way, Carapace for example has up to five minutes of Shell-ter, and then another five minutes before he de-transforms. Other miraculous abilities which aren’t timed but have an instantaneous effect (Ladybug, Cat, Monkey, etc.) only have a single timer for their transformation. As the user gains experience, the transformation timer gets longer until it eventually disappears. The show makes it a flat “when you’re an adult you don’t de-transform,” but that’s just one more underwhelming part of that season 3 finale…


End file.
